


i dont even know

by Dontcountonmetomakestuff



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dontcountonmetomakestuff/pseuds/Dontcountonmetomakestuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire's parents don't approve of him being trans, his friends, or his drinking</p>
            </blockquote>





	i dont even know

Grantaire could hear voices all around, too loud yet hushed. It hurt his head. He nuzzled into his blanket and inhaled deeply he was so sleepy. The smell made him want to get sick; it was the smell of bleach and old people, of bad days as a child. Aw fuck, he opened his eyes and saw he was right, much to his own dismay. Yep, this was a hospital. He groaned.

Several heads whipped towards him, eyes full of concern. The room spun a little which made it hard to figure out who was there, but it seemed to be most of Les Amis. And hand touched his and gave it a gentle squeeze, R turned his head and saw it was Eponine she offered him a weak smile. Grantaire opened his mouth to address her but Combeferre cleared his throat. Grantaire turned his head again and tried to meet his gaze but his vision was spinning and it was difficult. Combeferre pushed his glasses up his nose, “How do you feel R?”

R’s glare must have been answer enough because Combeferre just continues talking. 

“Right, stupid question.” He sighed, “They only let us all in here for a short while courtesy of Bahorel being the nurse’s nephew. Joly isn’t here because y’know hospital, and no one has been able to through to Enjolras. Do you know why you’re here?”

“Not really.” Grantaire tried to say but it came of as a broken croak. He looked around in confusion, Marius was crying silently with Jehan and the others seemed on the brink too. Eponine was still holding his hand.

Combeferre took another deep breath, “When Jehan went back to your apartment last night the bathroom door was locked and you weren’t anywhere to be found, ze had Courf with zem though, so they broke down the bathroom door. Sure enough that’s where you were. Passed out on the floor surrounded by empty bottles and puke.” He drew in a shaky breath, “What the fuck were thinking R?”

Combeferre was crying now and he sunk down at the end of the bed. Grantaire’s stomach clenched and dropped. What the fuck had he been thinking, he didn’t want Jehan to have seen that, ze must have been so frightened, he looked a Jehan. 

“I’m so sorry Jehan, you shouldn’t have had to deal with that, I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked and sobs escaped.

“That’s what you’re sorry for R? Not attempting suicide but that we found out?” Courfeyrac demanded. “Jesus fucking Christ, did you think we wouldn’t care?”

It was here when a nurse decided to bustle in and check on Grantaire. She looked around the room, full of teenagers crying and freaking out. “I don’t know who let you all in here, but if you are not related to the patient then I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”

They began to gather their things and gave Grantaire smiles and kisses on the cheek as they departed. Eponine was last to leave and shot him one last glance as she exited the room leaving the nurse to fuss over Grantaire.

 

Grantaire had visitors again the next day, though not quite as welcome as Les Amis. Even though Grantaire was mere months from adulthood the hospital took it upon them selves to call his parents. His mother rushed in the door cooing over how worried she was about him and how she wished he’d come home because they hadn’t seen him in months. His father sat in the corner and didn’t meet his eye. It was nice of her, Grantaire supposed to say these things but he couldn’t bring himself to believe her. It was only a few months ago when they last talked and she had told him, “I don’t want a son, I just want my daughter back!” Grantaire could never give his mother her daughter back, but he could get rid of her son. Bags were packed a shortly after Grantaire was staying with which ever friend could house him. 

They stayed for half an hour before his father claimed they had to pick up his sister and his mother placed a kiss on his forehead and whispered, “I missed you darling” and departed. Grantaire lay in bed for a while feeling hollow and wrecked but unable to relax are rest. He decided to check his phone, several missed calls from his friends, a voice mail from Joly and a text from Joly in case R didn’t listen to the voice mail. Which he wouldn’t. He text Joly back and put his phone away. He was tired and empty and needed a drink.

 

The rest of the week followed suit, his friends called him but weren’t allowed to visit, nurses checked on him and his parents came for a half hour each day where they insist on using his birth name. Once Grantaire was discharged his parents took him home. No conversations were held about why Grantaire tried to kill himself, no attempts to call him “him” and he was granted limited time with his sister, Sarah. 

Sarah was only seven and didn’t understand why her sister left but was just glad to have her back. Grantaire’s parents didn’t want Sarah to be corrupted by her Grantaire. Sarah loved her pink room, Grantaire had painted his black one day. Sarah loved her Barbies, Grantaire lived playing with Sarah and her Barbies but preferred trucks as a child. Sarah was the perfect girl, Grantaire never fitted the name “Nicole”. Their parents wanted to keep one child pure at least. 

When it became clear to their father that Grantaire would not cooperate with his rules, he sent Grantaire to rehab. He had a new job in a well known law branch and having a suicidal, alcoholic daughter who dresses like a man would not do. They kept it quiet, sending R to a private rehab which views homosexuality and other deviant activities to be a sin which drove people to unhappiness and addiction. 

Grantaire spent almost a year there. He would have been out of there much sooner but once he was sober they were hell bent on making him “her”. Grantaire was only given access to feminine clothing and encouraged to pursue feminine past times. After a while Grantaire learned to play their games pretend the dysphoria wasn’t hurting like it did, at least he didn’t have to pretend to like boys, just that he didn’t like girl and every other gender too. When they were happy with his progress Grantaire was taken back to his parents.

They had moved to a different town, into a nicer house, surrounded by other people on high pay rolls, his father’s job was really working out for him. He was obsessed with appearances, enrolling his children in the best schools and socialising in the best circles. Grantaire was forbidden from contacting his friends or anyone that would cause him to “fall back into harmful habits”. Grantaire wasn’t quite sure if this meant dressing as himself or drinking. Either way he got up every morning with a false smile and put on his uniform skirt as if it was no big deal. He could barely cope but with daily checks for self harm and substance abuse if Grantaire wanted any freedom or privacy he would have to act proper.

He must have been a good job because after a few weeks he was given a fancy dress and an order to accompany his family to a social event with the other lawyers in the firm.

__________________________________________________________________________________ 

Grantaire was ready for anything the day could throw at him, except this. The morning had started like shit, make up, hair, and a pink dress causing him to feel nauseous at the sight of himself. He couldn’t recognise himself as a guy anymore at all. His facial feature were softened by make up, contours to make him pretty not handsome, the dress emphasised what little curves Grantaire possessed and his usually unruly dark curls were straightened and brushed his shoulders delicately. His mother smiled genuinely and complemented him, before they all bundled into the car and left.

The lunch was held outside, on well maintained gardens behind a massive stone house. It was absurdly fancy and everyone there was dressed to the nines, Grantaire eyed a man’s three piece suit with envy, before noticing the man beside him. The breath was knocked from him and he stood, glued to the spot. His golden hair was held neatly at the nape of his neck, his smile was tight as he laughed at the other man’s joke. 

“Enjolras”, Grantaire whispered. Enjolras turned as if sensing his stare then turned away as if he had not seen Grantaire. Of course he hadn’t, Grantaire couldn’t recognise himself how would he expect Enjolras to.

He didn’t see Enjolras again until after all had eaten lunch. Grantaire was leaning against the balcony where the garden looked over a lake, sipping his coffee. Because there was a freaking lake. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” 

Grantaire spun to see Enjolras smiling at him, “Um, I don’t drink.”

“Alright, can I stay here with you? They’re all so boring and a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be on your own.”

Grantaire stared incredulously. He had spent years trying to flirt with Enjolras, and now he did, when he didn’t even recognise Grantaire as Grantaire or even as a guy. Even so he found himself nodding.

“I’m Enjolras”, he said extending a hand.

“Nicole”, Grantaire said, feeling bile rise as he said the name, and taking Enjolras’ hand. Enjolras brought up his hand and kissed the back. Jesus fucking Christ of course Enjolras chooses now to pull this sort of shit. 

So they stood and talked for a while until Grantaire had to go home. Enjolras gave him his number and made him promise to text. His mother smiled at him and his father seemed happy Grantaire was friends with Enjolras now, because apparently his father held the firms most powerful position. Fucking typical, now he was encouraged to befriend to very man they hated a year ago.

 

Grantaire and Enjolras text most days after that, Grantaire not daring to say anything his parent would be angry if they saw, nothing political, nothing LGBT, and nothing that painted them in a bad light. A few weeks later Enjolras asked Nicole out, he just wished Enjolras asked him out as Grantaire. His mother was delighted that he’d put that queer stuff behind and was having a healthy relationship and helped him get ready and look pretty. Grantaire felt like he was lying to Enjolras, he just wished Enjolras knew it was him and that he could talk to him other friends but alas it could not be. Enjolras doesn’t like R. 

Enjolras picks him up from his house around one and take him to the park. They walk in silence for a while until they come to a willow tree by the stream. Enjolras guides Grantaire behind it and they sit by the water. Grantaire shivers, this was so weird and girl’s clothing does not keep one warm. Enjolras smiles at him, “Are you cold?” Grantaire shakes his head but his goose bumps give him away, Enjolras reached into his bag and pulls out a coat. His coat, it green and worn and it smells like cologne. Grantaire looks at him in confusion but takes the coat anyway. 

“I thought you might want your coat back R.”


End file.
